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When the blood samples from the “wild man” were examined, they discovered a new pathogen. Rapid genetic sequencing revealed a simple virus that pulled an interesting trick. When the body’s autoimmune system went to fight it, instead of just reprogramming it to make more copies of itself, like retroviruses did, it had a payload of genetic information that tricked an older immune system, one we shared with reptiles and sea animals. This system is what researchers believed evolved into the fight part of the fight-or-flight reflex.

Instead of just causing the body to fight off the infection and inadvertently make copies of it, this virus actually caused a physical fight response. A fight response so powerful and primitive, it overpowered all the higher brain functions.

In the Mongolian prison, the men didn’t discriminate; they tried to kill their best friends. They went after anything that moved and didn’t stop.

The mall panic subsided without anywhere near the high mortality rate of the prison. The fact that it subsided at all was more evidence that this wasn’t the Mongolian Flu.

From later experiments with the pathogen, off-the-books experiments Baylor oversaw, they discovered victims wouldn’t stop trying to kill other people. They kept going until physical fatigue stopped them or they went into cardiac arrest.

The version of Mongolian Flu they obtained from the “wild man” was transmissible through an open wound but not airborne. Baylor had to explain to his oversight panel that that could be changed with just a few keystrokes on a genetic sequencer. If someone had malevolent intent for the virus, they could infect a lot of people very quickly.

Baylor tapped his fingers on his desk. Although this wasn’t the Mongolian Flu they were familiar with, there was nothing saying that the people who made the first version hadn’t come up with a variation. If they’d found out about the preventive measures Baylor and his team had taken, they may have tried to engineer a work-around.

China was the obvious guess for the creator, but there was credible evidence to suggest the virus was something they had accidentally discovered and the prison experiment was just their own cruel way of finding out what it did. The problem of trying to have indirect communication with the Chinese was that each branch of the military kept secrets from the others. It could have been a project by a group like his own.

Cold War political machinations aside, Baylor had second thoughts and decided the photos were enough reason to take precautions. He picked up a secure line and dialed the research center.

Thirty miles away in a 60,000-square-foot building that said “NitroFertilizer Inc.” on the front, a phone rang. A 52-year-old molecular biologist with curly gray hair and a well-manicured beard answered the phone.

“Ari, you following the mall thing down in Florida?” asked Baylor.

Ari Steinmetz replied, “Not really. What’s up?”

“I’m going to have some blood samples sent to us. I need you to stay late to look at them. I’ll have a courier waiting at the CDC for when they get their batch.”

Steinmetz looked over at two of his lab assistants who were leaning over a piece of hardware while referring to a manual. “Hey guys, we’ve got to stay late.”

They nodded and then went back to trying to figure out how to get the new automated sequencer to work.

“Anything I should be on the lookout for? I can get some lab tests ready to go,” asked Steinmetz.

Baylor paused for a moment. “It’s just a precautionary thing. Nothing we need to worry about. And it’ll be a good exercise for your team.” He tried to make his voice sound as matter of fact as possible. “I just want to follow up on something relating to Mongolian Flu.”

“The virus or the vaccine?”

“The virus,” replied Baylor.

“No problem.” Inwardly, Steinmetz swore.

“Thanks, Ari.” Baylor hung up and then dialed another number.

“What’s the current prep time for one of our go teams?” he asked.

“Three hours,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“OK. What if we need a site containment in South Florida? Say five hundred people?”

“Six hours.”

“Thank you. Just updating my files.” Baylor hung up and then called over to the executive airport they used outside of Atlanta and told them to keep a plane ready.

24

Mitchell watched the front of the other house for another two hours after the SWAT team left. Periodically a patrol car would pass through the neighborhood. Mitchell suspected this wasn’t their usual beat.

Although he wasn’t experienced at how the police tracked down fugitives, he would bet that there was probably another car, maybe an unmarked one, parked near the entrances or, worse yet, hiding in plain sight in a driveway, masquerading as one of the neighbor’s cars.

For a moment, he thought he was being too paranoid and then realized that was the whole point. He had to be extra paranoid. Getting out of the house was going to be tricky. He needed to make it from there to his next location while avoiding whatever surveillance there was. At least they would be looking for someone heading to the house and not away from it. Maybe there was something to that.

The attic was starting to feel more claustrophobic. He was tempted to go down into the house but didn’t want to take the chance of being seen through a window or have the owner come home early. He needed to sit tight for another few hours.

Mitchell pulled the pocket radio from his bag and put in an earbud. He used one ear to listen to the street and the other to find out what was being said on the news. He hoped in vain that he’d hear newscasters explaining that the manhunt was all a mistake and that Mitchell was in the clear.

He turned to an all-news AM station and caught the middle of a broadcast.

“… while the search continues for South Florida radio personality Mitchell Roberts after an apparent one-man rampage that led to a riot at Park Square Mall where at least 18 people are believed to be dead, authorities have downplayed rumors the riot was caused by some kind of unknown chemical or biological agent. A Department of Homeland Security spokesperson said that their personnel on site are there merely as a precaution.

“Meanwhile, news outlets have continued to press for access to security camera footage, hoping it could shed some light on how the actions of one man could lead to such a tragic event.”

While the news overall was depressing, hearing the phrase “chemical or biological” made Mitchell feel like there was a chance of finding out some kind of explanation that didn’t involve him being a sociopathic mass murderer.

The newscast came back from the commercial break, “Earlier today we spoke with University of Miami psychology professor Jeff Keating in a phone interview.”

Keating spoke with a precise tone. “What we may have here may be a case of mass hysteria. We see this all the time in news footage from the Middle East and places like India and Pakistan, where crowds of people are so angry by what they see that, in the comfort of the crowd, they feel empowered to take actions that otherwise morally they’d never do.

“Ultimately, they’re not responsible for their actions. This man who caused the riot by threatening a mother and her child is the one who has to pay the price for these actions.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Mitchell replied to the radio.

Sick of hearing people who weren’t there, describing something they didn’t know anything about, Mitchell turned off the radio. He decided to try to catch a nap in the attic before he departed.

To keep on the safe side, he set the alarm on the stolen iPod for two hours. He used his backpack as a pillow and placed the iPod inside of it. Wedged between old boxes and itchy insulation, he somehow managed to fall asleep.